


Celtic challenge of murder ballads, song 1, part 2

by AzureAngel2



Series: “Down in the willow garden”, a series of Orson Krennic vignettes [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 22:50:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10581117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureAngel2/pseuds/AzureAngel2
Summary: Summary: An angry youth tries to get rid of his one-night-stand. As the lead singer of a band he can chose any skirt he wants in this galaxy. But he actually wants money to return to Brentaal for the Galactic Futures Program of which he has been dispelled. Murderous thoughts roam his twisted mind.Time frame: The story takes place about 16 years before RotS (19 BBY).Planet of choice: LexrulDisclaimer: SW is owned by George Lucas, Lucas Ltd. and now The Walt Disney Company





	

**Story 2:** **_“A dreadful sight”_ **

It is **a dreadful sight**. She still lies in your bed, when you come out of the sonic shower. You roll her eyes at her, scowling.

There is just girlish admiration from her.

When you exercise, sweating and bleeding profoundly, you do that to tune your body into a deadly weapon. Not to impress skirts.

Dreamlike, her brown eyes – the only thing not alien about her – are checking you out.

Solving the problem at hand is likely to be as messy as the usage of 'spice', a refined form of the Ryll ore.

Your gaze hardens and your voice, that can sing gentle ballads on stage, adapts immediately. “I thought I had made it perfectly clear to you that I do not want to see you on my return.”

Her mouth gapes open and she stares back at you in astonishment.

How much you despise groupies! They basically throw themselves on you. With all their dreams and hopes.

“Out!” you snarl, not even making the effort to cover yourself with the towel.

She does not move an inch. Just blinks at you with those perfect brown eyes, who remind you of somebody important to you. Too important.

“Get lost!”

Perhaps the Twi’lek is as daft as a doorpost. The females of her species do not have ears, but those strange cones.

You should have picked out a human woman, but last night you were in an exotic mood. Desperate to blend out the reality of your life.

Having been kicked out of the Galactic Futures Program!

By now you expect that even Ina has gotten wind of it. Your former babysitter is very attentive, but you have not opened her last two-hundred-and-three HoloNet messages to you. You simply do not dare. It was you who severed the connection eight years ago. After you had called her names, very bad ones, during her own birthday party, there was no way back for you.

You set your lips in a firm line, drag away the groupie’s bed sheet.

“But Orson…!” she protests.

“Listen, tail-head!” Your temper explodes. “Your time is up! And that’s that!”

Her face is a wreath of mortification. “How can you be so cold?”

“You have no idea,” you breath.

When she still makes no move towards the exit of the hotel chamber, you walk up to your wardrobe and open it.

Your laser blaster is next to the discrete Holoframe with Ina’s photo.

“I hate repeating myself!” you tell the Twi’lek, pointing the barrel right at her.

“You are mad!” she shrieks and scrambles out of the bed in a blind panic.

“Perhaps,” you mumble and add a bit louder. “But I am still a good shoot.”

You aim at the tacky painting right over her large head and fire.

Grabbing the bed sheet, the Twi’lek flees the room.

You close the door behind her and lock it.

Now there is just the loud beating of your own heart and nothing else. It is a sound that calm you a lot.

You hate it when skirts try to stay on after a one-night stand. Attachment is a handicap for you. Only power and influence makes you safe.

Holding on to your weapon, you murmur the random lines of a Chandrilan folk song that comes into your mind.

_“I drew a saber through her_  
_It was a bloody knife_  
_I threw her in the river_  
_Which was a dreadful sign”_

You are glad for the Twi’lek that she left. She doesn’t deserve death. She was but a great distraction. But sometimes you could slaughter the entire universe. Only one person is safe from your fantasies of violence.

Ina was there for you when you needed her. For that you will always be grateful. But you do not dare to have her around. Not before you have achieved greatness.

The blueprints of your battle station are still in your mind after all those years. You will build it. It will be an instrument of peace and your ticket into the higher society of Coruscant. Lexrul, Bentaal and Chandrila are just backwater planets.

But for now, you will try to make the necessary money with your band. You can buy yourself back into the Programme. Of that you are certain. Some of the chair persons are greedy, others you can blackmail easily. You will not be denied access into the scientific world.

The door opens unannounced.

A flustered chamber maid stands in front of you, human by all means. Fluffy and blond, but pleasant to look at. “Sir, there has been...”

“Yes?” you ask sweetly, knowing she just recognized you for the celebrity that you are.

“I… may I… have?”

“My signature?” you say and rise to your full height.

She blushes, which reminds you strangely of Ina.

“Unfortunately, I have nothing to write on me… right now.” You give her your most dazzling smile. “But if you stay put for a while?”

The chamber maid does.

And much more.

**Author's Note:**

> Sources:  
> Once more the song “Down in the willow garden”, the version of Loreena McKennitt  
> A bow to Ben Mendelsohn for staring the movie “Killing them softly” this time  
> Wookieepedia – The Star Wars Wiki  
> Jedipedia, a free German Star Wars-Encyclopaedia


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